The One in White
by Phan45girl
Summary: Now she knew that Sadie was nothing more than the squaw—the slave—dressed in chaste white—the harem beauty—that served and served, the handmaid of his cruel world.


Yeah, so this will probably be a one shot, cause the girl has no time to write. I really suck at fanfiction, but I decided to do it again because I was bah bah black sheep bored. Nothing much, just Jude's reaction to Sadie's wedding to a certain Boy Bander. I know, who in their right mind would want to read this? Well, I wanted to write it, so yes, I am a crazy person. Much love to my B, too talented and creative to ever write fanfiction –Anni

The One in White

_Jude and Sadie were supposed to be royalty. Now she knew that Sadie was nothing more than the squaw—the slave—dressed in chaste white—the harem beauty—that served and served, the handmaid of his cruel world._

"When we were kids, I swear, I never hated her. I mean, I imagined what this day would be like since I was four. We planned everything…the white wedding, the Neapolitan ice cream cake, the sapphire bows and veils finer than European lace, cherry lips that glistened more than china, and the music that would play for the first dance with Dad. I remember secretly crying when she told me what it would mean. I cried cause it meant there would be no summer tiddly wink marathons when I couldn't sleep, no more reruns of _Are You Being Served?_ at one in the morning, no more dress up parties late in the evening when she would put me in her best school dresses, the ones with puffy, balloon sleeves and red heart buttons, no more dancing and singing to Abba, pink feathers and glitter. I never hated her, Kat. And now that it's here, my big sister is getting married, I can't do it. I can't let her go."

"You mean you can't let him go." Kat zipped Jude's pink monstrosity up at last. Her friend's sister was getting married in an hour, an hour that lagged as slowly as the final days of summer. The tiny chapel on the campus green was melancholy but brilliant in its sadness. It looked like a Monday after Easter when the Cadbury Eggs had been eaten, the Alleluia had been sung, and everyone had triumphantly announced, "He is risen indeed," then moved on to the week's monotonous routine.

Jude looked out the window at the fountain weeping under an old, storybook bridge. The setting was perfect. It was how she imagined her own wedding. But the rain that spit on drooping tulips was wistful, the sole lark in the sky was singing malarkey and even the lethargic winds of an early August morning were restless. Jude watched the sky lament and realized that this was a not a day for gladness. This was a day for goodbyes. She swallowed her depression; in three hours she would be singing a song she wrote for him…the groom…but everyone would assume it was about the happy couple. In a few hours both the bride and groom would be out of her storybook life forever. In a few hours Hansel and Gretel would vanish into the woods, Red Riding Hood would lose her precious crimson cape, Jack would come down from his bean stock, and Jude and Sadie would no longer be little girls with big dreams.

Kat brushed Jude's thin honey strands tenderly. Their friendship had survived after all; adolescent jealousy had not become a hobgoblin of little minds, and Kat kissed Jude on the cheek knowingly, "It's okay to tell me; you don't have to pretend that you're happy."

Jude thanked her friend by grabbing the hand resting on her left shoulder. She gazed in the mirror at the girls she did not recognize anymore. Kat was grown up and perfect in blue and cobalt. The yellow carnation sitting over her ear was simple and exquisite. But Jude looked like a pink poodle. The gaudy floral bows running down from her right shoulders to her chest made her despise her mother. Victoria should have said something to her oldest child. Pop stars do not wear maid of honor dresses. A tear fell down her cheek matching in time and flow the rain that traveled gently down the panes of the old window.

"No, I am not happy." She decided at last, "He doesn't deserve her. He doesn't deserve to take away Harrison from the end of her name. He's not what we imagined, Kat. Haven't you ever had expectations? When I was a little girl, I would have chosen Kermit, or Gonzo for my sister. Kermit, because he was so sensitive. He sang songs about being lonely, and rainbows, Gonzo, because he was crazy and had a big nose just like Sadie. But Sadie had her man chosen since she was three; she was in love with the guy from West Side Story. She pretended that Tony wasn't singing about Maria, but rather Sadie. She would sing in that off key, sharp little voice of hers, "I feel pretty," and when Tony got shot, she wept like I've never seen her weep about Tommy. Tommy's not Tony, he's not a man, he's not even Kermit the Frog, he's just a pathetic ex boy bander who's not good not enough for her."

Kat ignored Jude's sentimental whimpering. Once again, Jude was pining, once again, Jude could not handle being less than the center of attention. She put the brush down and effortlessly ran her own fingers through Jude's hair. "Oh stop. She forgave him, Jude. She's a big girl, a smart girl, and she forgave him. Don't you think it's time you did too?"

Jude could not look in the mirror any more. It was Dorian Gray who sinisterly smiled back. She yelled at herself in the mirror. She yelled at her puffy raccoon eyes, her awkward jaw, and her buck ashen teeth. She yelled because she wasn't Sadie Harrison. She yelled because she was not the one wearing white today. "How can I forgive him? It's not just for last year, Kat. It's not just for surprise wedding proposals and buying her forgiveness with diamonds, trips to Maui, and strawberry cake. It's not just for all the lies, it's not just the way he discarded me…"

Jude coughed up the last words. They ached in her throat, but they throbbed even worse when they lingered outside of her. Spoken words were like daggers, and she had grown tired of stabbing the air with her veracity. She dug her fingers on to the wooden counter and turned to face her taciturn companion,

"I mean, it's not just what he did to Sadie…it's how he did it. I don't want Tom Quincy to be my brother in law. I don't want him to be a member of my family. I don't want him to enter our world."

In the distance, the first whistle of thunder mumbled. The sky was as black and as ill-fated as a flat tire during the last mile of a road trip, and the winds thrashed against the window violently and jealously. Jude had enough; she heaved the Old Testament sitting beside the silver comb and plastic box of makeup to the floor. It hit the ground with an enthusiastic thud, and the sound finally resurrected the dead church. At long last, Jude wept for the months that she had smiled. "Oh Kat, he's taking my sister away, he's taking away my big sister, just like he took away everything else."

Kat crouched to the floor as she dragged Jude down to join her. "Pull it together, you can do this. So screw Little Tommy Q! You love your sister, so you are going to be the pro I know you are and tough it up. You are the best performer I know. Just walk down that aisle, sing your song at the reception, and go home. Treat it like a concert, Jude. Forget about yourself; just do what makes the fans happy. Make your sister happy today, cause it's her day."

At length, the anticipated lightning flashed across the sky. Summer storms sizzled, smoked, and smothered, but she missed them. She missed summer nights and crawling in with Sadie when she was frightened. An angry God would make the sky seethe like her parents arguing in the room next door. There was justice in the world back then. The shoe would fit, the dragon would be slain, and the evil stepsister would be pushed to the shadows as good trumped wicked. There was innocence in the world back then as well. What did she know about wedding vowels? What did she know about the adventures of the prince and princess after the book was closed? What did she know about what the prince did to other damsels when he had grown tired of happily ever after?

For a brief moment, the lighting did not make her think about her sister or about summer, giggles, warm beds and toes. Rather instead, the sudden heat and spontaneous light made her seductively lust over the person who would be sharing her sister's bed now.

He was just an ordinary man, in the end: the brooding Mr. Rochester, who needed to be needed. She knew he was more than the bubble wrap, one size fit all boyfriend. He was more than laminated album covers, stickers with hearts, monochromatic bedroom posters, and much more than "broken pieces" that needed to be picked up and put together. He looked tired and distracted, but his defeat and brokenness was what made him handsome. Jude was sure that no one understood Tom Quincy like she did. Jude was equally sure that there was no other woman in the world for him, but her.

From the moment their lips met, she wrote her once upon a time. No longer would Sadie be the one she ran to in the middle of the night to keep her warm; it would now be a man who would swaddle her with his arms and legs. He would be the one to play tiddly winks with, he would be the one who would make her laugh and undress her from her silly, childish clothing. At long last, she would be the one wearing white, and he would be the one at the end of the aisle.

The thunder roared again with a more powerful punch. Jude leaned against Kat, shaking her head with immense regret. It turned out that Prince Charming was not so charming after all. In an hour Sleeping Beauty would prick her finger on the spinning wheel. The great belt on the wheel of time would sleep. The magic would be dead.

"Kat, it's her day. I'll be happy," she announced at last as the tear danced a slow waltz, a wedding waltz, falling silently, but glaringly onto the forgotten Bible sitting beside them.


End file.
